


No Heroes Allowed

by orphan_account



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Harry Styles - Freeform, Innocent Harry, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, M/M, Mute - Freeform, Mute Harry, Mutism, Protective Louis, Self-Hatred, Virgin Harry, definitely not a virgin louis, fixing fixing fixing, i'm not sure what else to tag this as, kind of flowerchild harry, larry stylinson - Freeform, not so innocent Louis, one direction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-01 00:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3998326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Selective mutism" was the proper term for what Harry Styles had been cursed with for <em>almost</em> as long as he can remember. It started around the age of seven when the story of his father physically abusing him finally came to light. Louis Tomlinson had never met anyone like Harry. Despite the complete lack of words Harry spoke, Louis was completely head-over-heels for the boy. A completely unexpected turn of events transpires, and Harry finally finds someone he can talk to. Well, about as much as a mute person can talk, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolouge

[Harry's POV]

I had never been a big fan of school. The way people looked at me as if I were some sort of failed scientific expiriment made me extremely self-conscious as I walked up and down the long and seemengly endless hallways. Elementary school was almost better than high school in the sense that when the other kids didn't want to play with you, it was a well-known fact. They didn't try to hide their distaste for you, or shoot you sympathetic smiles as they walked away - no, they told you exactly why you weren't suitable material to play with.

In high school, however, you had the complete opposite. No one except for the downright bullies or people without filters told you why they didn't like you. It was always one excuse after another: They stared at me because they spaced out. They didn't talk to me because they were tired. They ignored me because they didn't realize I was trying to catch their attention. 

They talked behind my back because it was easy.

Most of the people at my school were aware of my condition because it was so uncommon; fascinating almost. The students and teachers and janitors and counselors knew I couldn't talk. 

Ever since I was little, I had always been aprehensive when it came to talking to people - especially strangers. I would voice a few words every now and then in dire circumstances, but other than that, I didn't talk. It was mostly due to the fact that, from the age of three, my father would hit me when things weren't going his way. When I cried too much, gave attitude, or wouldn't consent to something, he would haul off and smack me. Sometimes it was tolerable, other times it would leave me in a disheveled heap in the corner of my room.

He would always come to me later and tell me not to say a word about it to anyone.  
"If anyone asks," he would say, "You fell down the stairs."

One excuse after another.

Eventually, I became tired of excuses and fear of getting caught, so I just decided to keep my mouth shut. It was then, when I was around the age of seven, that my mother found out. At that point, I had been diagnosed with "Elective/Selective Mutism" for about two months.

No therapists, nor counselors, nor medicine could undo the number my father had done on me. 

So, naturally, going to school with a bunch of people who never would and never could fully understand my situation, just made things worse.

These are not the reasons why I woke up on Sautday, June sixth, with a large smile on my face.

I graduated.

I was finally done with school. Freshmen, Sophmore, Junior, and Senior year had dragged by painfully slow and I was finally free to do as I wished. 

Within reason, of course.

I walked over to my bathroom with a bit of happiness visible in each step I took, suddenly thankful I only worked weeks and not weekends.

I was currently employed at a small café by the name of Snackstop, a mere few blocks from Doncaster College. The job paid well and the people were relatively nice, so there was no real reason not to like it. 

Overall, I liked my job. There weren't many things I didn't like besides myself and my life.

In a nutshell, I felt I had almost nothing to live for.

My mum worked constantly just to keep my sister, Gemma, and I afloat - paying for all of my medication and regular trips to the hospital. Despite the fact that I was obviousily never going to get better, I still had at least five bottles of pills for anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder, and two more odd disorders with long names and hard spellings. I always had this feeling that I costed too much. Too much for my worth, anyways. I could not express these feelings to anyone due to my inability to speak, causing my bottled-up emotions to continually build up inside my blood and course through my veins. 

It wasn't that I didn't want to scream or shout or yell until my throat became raw and lungs became sore - it was that I couldn't. No matter how hard I tried, there was this psychological wall in my head that inabled me to speak. I could almost feel and see the wall in my head it was so real. 

The only way I really knew how to communicate was through sign language. Even then, I didn't use it most of the time. For too many reasons, my brain did not want to make any contact or conversation with the outside world. 

There were even times when I failed to remember simple terms in sign language such as: "Hold on" or "How are you?" or "Nice to meet you." However, it was less than just forgetting the phrases and more of 90% of my brain not wanting to make any conversation ever.

These were the things that either got my blood boiling and my faced flushed, or my eye lids heavy and my limbs suddenly exhausted.

Living was more work than I was worth.

That's why, when I was done using the toilet, I went back under my covers and let the warmth of no school, no work, and no plans drift me back to sleep.

****  
[Louis' POV]

The summer had just begun and there wasn't anything more I would wish for. My life as a Freshman in Doncaster College had just ended and I was getting ready to register for classes next year. The year had rolled by relatively fast and with all of the parties and late-night "study" sessions, I was ready to welcome this two month grace period with open arms and a bright smile.

I had always been an optomistic person, growing up in a relatively small town with a relatively large family, and a relatively good friend circle. My childhood had been one of ease and excluding my parents' divorce, there weren't many things I could look back on that would cause any sort of twist in my stomach. I like my life, and generally enjoyed waking up every day. I sometimes contemplated these things on the way my job at 99p, a discount store to which I was the assistant manager. 

Before getting up, however, I needed tea.

I opened my eyes carefully, revealing the moderate flat I currently rented. The sunshine that shone through my windows was supposed to be beautiful. Although, due to my pounding hangover, it stabbed the back of my eyes more than it lit up my room. 

I only got to pull the covers back over my head for a few minutes before my alarm went off, screeching at me to get up for work. 

I never did like Mondays.

My normal routine of getting up, eating breakfast, procrastinating, showering, procrastinating, getting dressed and procrastinating seemed like more of a hassle today than it did other days. Any other day, I would've been just fine.

Any other day I would've remembered to restock on tea bags.

I groaned, realizing I would have to actually get tea from the nearby shop if I wanted to go about my day like a normal human being. I never liked getting tea from cafés no matter how cute or chic the setup was. The baristas never made my tea correctly and I would always just end up throwing it away half-way through the cup.

Today, I figured, I would try a new place.

There had always been this quaint little café only a few blocks away from the college, and despite passing it many times, I never actually went in there. I haven't heard anything bad about it, so why not give it a shot?

Upon arriving at Snackstop, I immediately noted the homey vibe it gave off. I hardly stepped into the door before deciding that I liked this place. 

I didn't want to get my hopes up, though, so I walked up to the counter hoping they had good tea.

I would not be able to get my tea, however, if no one stood behind the counter.

I tapped my foot for a few moments and called out a quick "Hello?" just to make sure this place actually has people in it.

"Harry, can you get that?" Someone called from a room to my left. I waited curiousily as a young, yet tall, man came rushing up to the counter from a room behind and to the right of the counter.

He clicked a few buttons on the cash register before looking up at me expectantly, but not rudely. He had the faint trace of a smile on his lips and his cheeks were flushed red due to the cold wind that burst through the door when I opened it. It was only when he looked up at me was I stunned by his natural beauty. He had these beautiful green eyes that looked bright against his dark eyelashes and pale face. His hair hung a mere few inches above his shoulder and it's dark pigment contrasted perfectly against the rest of his face. His pink, full lips were slightly parted as he awaited my order.

Maybe coming to a café wasn't such a bad choice after all.

One thing that put me off, however, was the way he didn't say anything. Not a "Hello" or a "How may I help you today?"

I shrugged it off and ordered my usual Yorkshire tea with no sugar. He nodded and looked back down at the register, clicking a few more things before taking a cup, writing something, and placing it to his right.

He looked back up at me when the total of 3.95 pounds appeared on the small screen facing me. I gave him my card and watched him swipe it and then furrow his brow at the screen.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

He turned the register so it was facing me and two options appeared on the screen:  
Credit or Debit

I raised an eyebrow at him, wondering why he didn't just ask me as I clicked Debit. 

When he noticed my skeptical look directed at him, he blushed and looked back down, his slight grin almost turning into a frown. Once he gave me back my card, I put it back into my wallet and watched as he started to prepare the tea.

I felt a bit guilty for some reason unbeknownst to me, so I decided to make some small talk.

"Is this place usually this empty?" I asked, taking note that a woman with long brown hair in the corner, I was the only one in here.

The man with curly hair quickly scanned the room and nodded.

"Are you the only one working here?"

He shook his head, and pointed to the back room, implying that there was someone else here, too.

At this point, I picked up on the fact that he clearly wasn't using his voice for a reason. I knew he wasn't deaf, because he responded when a woman called for him to take my order. I wondered how I could ask him why he wasn't speaking without sounding like a complete asshole. For a brief moment, I wondered what his name was, when I looked down at his name tag: Harry.

"Harry, is it?" I asked.

He nodded without looking up at me, filling up my teacup.

I couldn't deny the fact that he was extremely attractive. A mix of both adorable a downright sexy at the same time.

I asked him simple questions, to which he either held up a number on his hands or nodded or shook his head. There was something different about this boy, and I was curious to know what it was. Not only did he refuse to speak, but he had a look in his eyes that I had never seen on another person before. What frustrated me the most was that I had no idea what it was. 

Our "conversation" was over all too soon when he handed me my cup and a small smile.

"Thanks, Harry." I stood there for a second before feeling my phone vibrate with a text from one of my co-workers.

Zayn: Lou, where are you? Our boss is gonna be mad af if you come in late again

"Shit - I have to go," I told Harry, "It was great talking to you, though."

He blushed and looked down and it was most likely the cutest thing I had ever seen.

I was in the middle of walking back through the front doors when I turned around and added, "Do you work here full-time? Like, on weekdays?" He nodded.

A smile played on my lips as I added, "Then I will make sure to stop by more often," I turned around in just enough time to catch Harry's shocked, yet pleased expression as I made my way to my car.

For a boy that wouldn't speak, he was quite charming. 

I guess forgetting to buy tea bags isn't such a bad thing in the end.


	2. Two

[Harry's POV]

Friday had finally arrived, and after a long week of expecting a certain someone to show up again, I had had enough of work. 

As stupid as it sounds, I waited everyday for that wonderful man who seemed to take an interest in me show up again. By Thursday night, I laughed at myself on the way home for making such a big deal out of it.

It's one guy, I consoled myself, He was just being nice.

People are nice to me all of the time. Most of the time, though, it's psuto-niceness. It's usually because they have heard of my condition, so they feel the need to somehow make my life a bit easier and exercise their kindness towards me. It was a nice geusture, however, it was refreshing when I met someone who saw me for who I am, not what I am.

That's what I thought I found with the man who's name I didn't even get. 

He seemed different than the others. His beautiful blue eyes and bright smile suggested warmth, and security. Something I haven't had in awhile.

I heard the door to my room open, and someone's footsteps come to my bed.

"Harry," my mum said, shaking me slightly. I looked at her in response.

"I need you to go to the store for me before you head to work," She asked.

I squeezed my eyes shut, indicating that the last thing I wanted to do was get out of bed earlier than usual. 

She ignored my indication and told me she needed a loaf of bread and box of Coca-Cola.

So, naturally, I did as my mum asked, because she did so much for me, it would be counted as unloving if I didn't at least try to reciprocate the actions. The only reason this was slightly bearable was because I went to work at nine, which was later than most people went to their jobs, so compared to other people I slept in everyday. This, plus the nice weather outside, made it okay.

I made it to the grocery store, only a few blocks down, and was walking down the Dairy aisle when I heard a familiar voice from behind me.

"Harry?"

I turned around to see none other than the man I had been dying to see this entire week. I looked down and realized I was still in my pajamas, causing a bit of blush to rise on my cheeks as I waved.

"Fancy meeting you here," he joked as he made his way towards me. I gave a small smile and nodded, suddenly aware of our height difference.

"How have you been, mate? I've been wanting to stop by your shop again to see you, but I'm always so rushed in the mornings I've never had time," He chuckled slightly at the end and I swear it was the most heavenly thing I have ever heard.

We were both looking at each other and I realized that he, too, is wearing pajamas. Of course, he wore them much better, and with alot less effort. His hair was thrown about in an I-just-got-up sort of way, yet not messy. It looked feathery and light and soft, and it took all of my willpower not to reach my hand out and run my fingers through it. He also had thin lips that on anyone else would've seemed to be lacking fullness, yet on him they were irreplaceable.

I started to wonder how they would feel against mine, considering our lips were two completely different sizes.

A grin crept up on his face and I realized I had probably just been blatantly checking him out.

Real nice, Harry. Real nice.

My cheeks blushed furiousily and I looked down at the ground - suddenly I found the patteern of the cheap linoleum far more interesting than anything else at the moment.

After a moment, he cleared his throat and I looked up at him to see nothing but "fond" written all over his face, causing my heart to flutter. He was about to open his mouth sto speak, when two small children came running up to him.

"We found it!" They chanted.

"Louis, can we get them? Please?" One of them asked, holding up a giant candy bar.

He sighed, thinking.

"And can we go to your house, please?" The other added, extending the syllables of the last word.

"Now you know mum just wanted me to watch you at your house," He continued, "And I was in the middle of a conversation, young ladies." He chuckled and guestered to me as I just stood there awkwardly, watching the adorable interactions between Louis and what I'm guessing were his sisters.

"Daisy, Pheobe, this is Harry. Harry, these are two of my sisters," They both looked at me with wide eyes. Daisy looked up at Louis and attempted to whisper, 

"Is this the same guy you were telling mum about?"

Soon after, Pheobe joined in, "Oh yeah! You were saying ho-"

"Alright, girls, have you gotten your candy bars?" Louis quickly interuppted, distracting them from the subject at hand.

I couldn't stop the wide smile that spread to my face because Louis was thinking about me outside of the small converation we had a few days ago. Not only was he thinking about me, but he was also talking about me - inferring that I had stood out in his mind.

For the time being, I let myself think that was a good thing.

"Sorry about that," he said, scratching the back of his neck, "My mum was out for the day and wanted me to watch my sisters. For two young girls, they can be quite restless," I chuckled which came as quite a surprise to me.

I did still have the ability to talk, despite what most people thought about me. I would only talk in settings where I felt comfortable, relaxed, or at home, which was kind of sad due to the fact that I never felt any of those things.

Not even at home were my psychological barriers able to be breached.

Yet, I was hardly five minutes into a conversation with an almost complete stranger and I used my throat to laugh or chuckle or whatever you want to call it.

Either way, I made noise.

Something flashed behind Louis' eyes and he seemed to want to carry the conversation on further, but when he heard his sisters calling his name again, he sighed.

"I shuld go get the twins home before they manage to destroy the entire store," He stepped a bit closer to me and red flags were going off in my head - yelling and screaming at me to pull back even though Louis was a good three feet away from me.

"Do you think I can get your number?"

I was completely shocked. He wanted to get my number? Mine? 

Why?

I nodded and fumbled my hands through my pockets to find my phone, and I handed it over to him shakily. I watched at he casually entered his number and sent a text to himself.

"Thanks, Harry. I'll, uh, I'll text you." With that, the most beautiful yet confusing man I had ever known was gone.

The whole thing might've been chessier than your everage romantic comedy, but I couldn't stop smiling even when I got changed and headed to work.

****  
[Louis' POV]

I got in my car, and immediately blasted the heater. I wasn't sure what the tempurature outside was, but it had to be in the negatives because it's March in England. The day started off relatively nice, but soon the temperature dropped lower and lower almost as if Mother Nature was yelling at everyone to stay inside.

It was now 6:21, as I had spent most of my day and night babysitting my sisters who "didn't need sitting" as one of the older ones (Lottie) pointed out. They might not've, but it was better safe than sorry and if one of them had gotten hurt, I didn't want it on my conscience. Not to mention, I always missed them, so if babysitting them was another excuse to see my lovely siblings then so be it.

I sat on my couch, eating take-out and mindlessly flipping through TV shows that I didn't know and didn't care about when I remembered that earlier that day, I had managed to snag Harry's number.

The cute, adorable, quiet, and shy young man had allowed me to have his number and I felt like dancing.

I didn't want to scare him off, though, because he just always seemed frightened anyways, so I decided to repress these feelings as I shot him a simple text:

Me: _Hey, there_

I almost immediately got a response

Harry: _Hi :)_

Me: _What's up?_

Harry: _Nm. Sitting in my room listening to music. Hbu?_

Me: _Eating Chinese food and watching "Desperate Housewives"_

With that, our conversation continued as to why Harry loves that show, which episode I was watching, and what kind of music Harry was listening to. It was funny, seeing him talk through text when he didn't talk in real life. For the second time that day, I caught myself wondering what his voice sounded like and why he didn't speak. 

I knew he had the ability to, due to the slight chuckle that came from him at the grocery store, yet he didn't.

Why not?

Harry: _Lou? You still there?_

I had been so caught up in thoughts about Harry, that I didn't even realize I hadn't responded to his last text.

Me: _Yeah, sorry. Just got caught up in my thoughts :P_

Harry: _Abooouuuttt???_

I typed my next words very slowly and very carefully.

Me: _You_

The second the text sent I wanted to take it back. I felt incredibly stupid because he probably wasn't even gay - nevermind into me. I stared at my phone screen, desperately awaiting a message from Harry. It was about three minutes later when he finally responded.

Harry: _Me?_

Harry: _Really?_

Harry: _Why?_

I was comforted by his responses. I didn't scare him off by my sudden mood swing. The only problem was he wanted to know why I thought of him. This was an issue because I thought alot of things about Harry.

I wondered why he didn't speak, what his family was like, why he was so shy, and why didn't make much eye contact with me.

Most of all, I wanted to know if he wanted to kiss me as bad as I wanted to kiss him.

I just summed it by saying I thought he was a really interesting person and he just seemed so warm and inviting. I hesitated before adding on:

Me: _I also think you're quite pretty ;)_

With that text, it was a whole ten minutes before I got a response.

Harry: _I think you're prettier xx_

Me: _That, I'm afraid, isn't possible. Haha x_

We texted for a few more minutes before he said he needed to go to sleep because it was nearly 12am and he had to wake up early to go to the pharmacy and wasn't I tired at all? I wasn't tired, no, because I was having a pleasant conversation and I didn't want to stop talking to him. Neither did he, but the forces of nature were compelling him to.

I chuckled at that one as we said our goodbyes and I plugged my phone up to it's charger. 

No matter what I did, I couldn't stop a smile from growing on my face as I thought of Harry.


	3. Three

[Louis' POV]

_I stood in front of a house I had never seen before - from my perspective, it looked empty. There were people scattered across the lawn taking pictures of it._  
_Nobody really knew why, but there was something about this house that made you pull your car over and just admire it._

_It was simple, yet beautiful._  
_Small, yet elegant._

_I walked up the steps to the front door only to realize it was shut and locked extremely tight. The chains wrapped multiple times around it seemed a bit over the top, especially with a rather large padlock holding it all down._  
_I looked behind me only to see that all of the spectators - as well as my car - were gone._  
_I shrugged, figuring I'd find a ride home later._  
_Even if I didn't, I'd find a way home somehow._  
_I always found a way home._

_I circled around the house a few times, trying to find a way in. On my second time around, I noticed a small door buried by a tangle of mold, vines, and cobwebs._  
_This door hadn't been addressed in awhile, and that was apparent._  
_A few minutes went by before I finallt got all of the debris off, only to reveal a smaller, more flimsy keypad on the door._

_With relative ease, I yanked it off and entered._

_The room was dark, yet there was enough light from the outside for my to see faint outlines of everything. The stale and heated air caused a knot to form in my stomach as I walked deeper and deeper in into the room.. My hand glided along the wall, looking for a light switch. The second I found one, I flipped it on._

_As a light shone on everything, I gasped._

_This house - this room - was nothing if not broken._  
_Completely robbed of innocence._

_The white walls had been stained with unidentifiable red blotches everywhere, and I'm not sure if I was more disturbed by that, or the fact that there were old clothes messily tossed about._  
_But they weren't normal clothes, because why would they be?_  
_Upon further examination, my eyes welled up with tears._

_Children's clothes._  
_Everywhere._  
_Children's clothes._

_On top of boxes, on the couch, in a pile in the corner._  
_I suddenly became angry. Angry at the person who had treated this house so poorly; soiled it's innocence with their incompetence and blatant disregard. Angry at whoever thought it was okay to leave this poor house without any mention of cleaning up._

_Angry at my lack of knowledge as to why a child's clothing was all over the place._

_However, in the far corner of the room there was a small and inconspicuous toy box - chained and locked, to no surprise. I was confused, knowing it hadn't been there when I arrived. As I walked over to it, something struck me as quite odd._

_The box was locked - not with one or two - but six small locks._  
_Someone went through a lot of trouble to make sure this wasn't opened._  
_I sighed, yet something in the back of my mind told me that I would eventually open it._

_For now, though, I wanted to fix this house up - make it a proper living space._  
_I longed to help this beautiful home regain it's normality, despite knowing that it could never be completely without blemish again._  
_Not only was I dedicated to fixing this house, but I was dedicated to stay. Not just to fix it, but also to treat it the way it deserved to be treated._  
_This house was pulling, almost speaking to me, asking me to stay._  
_And that was exactly what I had intended to do._

****

As I got dressed, I remembered it was Monday and Harry was going to be at his small bakery today. I smiled to myself, thinking about all of the things I adored about the younger boy.  
His smile, and the way he blushed whenever I complemented him.  
His dimples that only seemed to appear at key moments.  
The way his hair curled and framed his face so well that you just wanted to reach out and loose your hands in it.  
His personality in general was what made me get up out of bed with an extra little skip in my step.

Upon entering my car, I was hit with a sudden realization. Harry never talked about his family.  
Correction: he never talked at all, but he never said anything about his family when we would text and I would tell him stories of mine.  
He would change the subject, or ask questions about my household and for some reason I couldn't explain, I started feeling a twist in my stomach.

_He never talks about his family._

The sentence bounced around in my head, as I recalled my dream.

_He never talks about his life._

I shrugged off the odd notions as fast as I could, walking into the store at a brisk pace due to the harsh wind and heavy snow. I looked around for a few seconds before I saw Harry smiling brightly at me from the counter. I smiled back and made my way over.

"Morning, love. How are you today?" I asked in my cheeriest voice.  
I saw a flash of something in his eyes at that nickname, but it soon passed as he nodded.  
I ordered the usual as a question popped into my head and I can't believe I had never thought of it before.

"Can I ask you a question, Harry?"  
He looked at me, his eyes telling me to go ahead.

"Can you sign?"  
He looked surprised for a second, as if he was surprised that I even knew what I was talking about. His eyes flickered to something behind me, and when he met my face, he began to nod but then shrugged.  
His head went back down, and he started typing in my order.

"Sorry, I was- just, I... I learned sign language awhile back... I haven't really had the chance to try it out." I scratched the back of my neck before he froze, as if remembering something.  
Suddenly, he brought his hands up and "said", _That's a shame._

My face lit up as I communicated back, _Yeah. Too bad I don't know anybody that I can practice with._

He smiled and signed, _I know right?_

I laughed at Harry's adorableness, and despite the wierd looks people gave us, this was defiantley the best morning I'd had in awhile.

I waited for my tea to be finished, and snuck glances at Harry every now and then. Whenever he looked back, I would put my head down and smile to myself. If anyone saw the way we acted they'd think we were practicing for some cheesy romantic comedy, but I couldn't help it. Something about Harry just made me feel so _loved._

Harry and I made small conversation when my tea was done and right before I went to leave, I noticed a woman struggling to open the door from the inside.

"Shit," she cursed, "We're fucking snowed in."

****

[Harry's POV]

I could never remember how to sign. I didn't exactly know why, but I figured it was partially because I didn't _want_ to know how. I never wanted to talk to, or communicate with anybody. 

Until I met Louis Tomlinson.

As cliché as it sounds - and probably is - I've never met another person who I've wanted to communicate with before I met Louis.

That might've been the reason why my sign lanugage came so easily when I was signing with him. That, or the fact I didn't really forget it after all and I was just waiting for a time to use it.

I liked the first option much better, though.

As Louis was about to leave, a woman at the door announced that we were snowed in, and after a few other people tried opening the door, it was apparent that we really were snowed in.

My boss turned the news on and we all watched patiently as the weatherman made it clear that we had a blizzard on our hands, we should stay inside, and we should be expecting the snow to ease up later that afternoon.

There weren't that many people in the shop anyways besides me, Louis, my boss, The Woman Who Tried to Open the Door, a man with ginger hair, and two of my co-workers.

"Looks like I'll have to spend my day with you, I guess," Louis said although he didn't look all that dissapointed. He went to make a quick phone call to his job, and I just stood there staring at him like an idiot.

He was wearing a simple black T-shirt and jeans, but _damn_ he looked good. His hair was tossed about and I don't recall ever seeing a man rocking that look as well as Louis did. As he walked back towards me, I noticed something small about his outfit.

 _Are you not wearing any socks?_ I signed.

He smiled softly before signing back, _I never wear socks._

As with all of our conversations, we bagan talking about something irrelevant and inane. Our conversation went from socks, to peircings, to the Woman Who Tried to Open the Door and her purple hair, to our hobbies and every once in awhile a "Can I get another cuppa?"

Throughout this conversation, my heart fluttered whenever Louis made a certain look at me. It was hard to explain, but that look sent my emotions soaring into mid-air with no intentions of being caught. I didn't ever think I was attracted to guys, but I never was attracted to girls, and I guess this was the point where I asked myself wheather I found myself fancying guys or not.  
Before I even processed the question, I knew the answer.  
I guess I'd known the answer all along.

"You're quite cute when you daze off," Louis commented, interupting my thoughts.

I blushed and shook my head, _Very funny._

_I'm serious, Harry. You're always just so adorable._

I just looked at him for a second before wondering if it was even possible for a man this perfect to exist. His eyes flickered down to my lips and I felt a spark ignite in my heart. There was nothing more that I wanted more in that moment than to kiss this man before me. 

_Let's sit down, yeah?_ Louis asked with his hands. I nodded, eager to do anything Louis wanted to do. My co-worker, Mary, would have no trouble keeping an eye on the cash register being as though no one was coming up to order anything. 

He took a seat on the couch we had to make the place feel more like a "home"  
and he patted the cushion next to him, silently asking me to take a seat.  
We sat there for a few seconds, just gazing out of the window into the blizzard that brewed ahead of us.

"You know what the snow reminds me of?"He asked me.

I shook my head.

"It reminds me of you," he looked into my eyes and I sudden;y became afraid of how close we were. I wasn't used to having my face only centimeters away from someone else's. Also, as part of my disorder, I did not socialize well with other people. I had extreme social anxiety and this made me very wary of the close proximity of Louis and me.

 _Why?_ I dared myself to ask.

"Because it's quiet, almost silent, but no one can seem to take their eyes off of it. It's just so... beautiful. It makes you want to just sort of sit and admire what it's like."

My heart was pounding in my chest and I had no idea how to respond. I became suddenly aware of how loud the TV was, how loud The Woman Who Opened the Door was talking on her phone, and how loud my co-workers conversations were. I tried to respond to the man sitting next to me, and I wanted to tell him so many things, but there were so many noises and I was starting to feel overwhelmed. 

Louis had just spoken the most kind words to me anyone has ever spoken before and I wanted to just grab his face and kiss him, but at the same time I wanted to run away and create as much distance between us as possible.

Louis must've noticed this, because he asked, "Are you alright?"

With that, my breaths started getting faster and I felt a weight on my chest. I didn't want to be here and I didn't want to be this close to him but at the same time I wanted to be even closer. I put my hands on my knees and looked down, trying to ease my nerves.

"Harry? Is everything okay?"

He put his hand on my back and I _really didn't like people touching me_ and suddenly I wanted to throw up. I started to feel the fear that I used to feel when I was younger. Now, I was alright with associating with people, but before the hundreds of hours in therapy, I had a literal fear of talking to people.  
That feeling was resurfacing in my lungs and I wanted it to go away.

"Is there something wrong with him?" A voice asked from behind me.

"I-I'm not sure, we were just sitting here, and-"

"It's okay, I got it."

Someone was taking me by the arms and leading me to the back room where the employees usually took their break.

I didn't want to be here, but someone was telling me to just sit here and take it easy and I could come out whenever I wanted and I almost laughed at that comment.

I didn't want to wrap my hands around myself and have to quiet my fears.

I didn't want to sit here alone.

I didn't want to feel worthless because of the things I couldn't control.

I wanted Louis.

I might've said that or signed it or done something to signal this, because suddenly Louis was at my side, putting his arms around me and telling me that everything was going to be okay.

Normally, I hated human contact.

Normally, I hated talking to people.

On the other hand, Louis wasn't "normally."

That might've been the reason why I allowed myself to rest my head on his chest and sway me softly.

That might've been why I allowed him to whisper in my ear telling me the sweetest things.

He'd always be there.

Everything was going to be okay.

He'd never let me go.

I didn't have to do this on my own.

As long as he was here, I'd never have to do this on my own.

With that, I took a deep breath and held on to the feeling of security, being as though I wasn't sure if I'd ever felt this before. We just sat there for a few long minutes until I stopped shaking and looked into those beautiful blue eyes I'd never get tired of seeing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know - a blizzard in June? Sorry about that. I'll be more careful when choosing the time of year next time!


	4. Four

[Harry's POV]

I hated myself so much right now. I couldn't believe that out of all people I could've broken down in front of, I broke down in front of Louis. He had no idea how serious my condition was, and I wanted it to remain that way.

Now, however, that option was out of the window.

I was currently wrapped up in Louis' warm embrace and I had never felt anything like it. Ever since I was a kid, I had never liked being touched by people. My own mother didn't even hug me because she was aware of my strong distaste for contact with other people. Whenever someone would even try to pat me on the back, wrap their arms around me, or even link our hands together, I would shy away in the most natural way I could manage. Which, really, wasn't ever very natural.

With Louis, though, everything was different. Everything was always different. From the get-go, I _wanted_ to communicate with him, and before we started signing, it frustrated me to no ends that I couldn't tell him what I was feeling. Now that I could have conversations with him, I would always retreat when he started getting flirty or compliment me or say something so sweet I could almost taste it in my mouth. I was completely infatuated with the older boy, and although I felt something deeper towards him, I could never admit it to myself. The thought of anything more was scarier than I could fathom.

I wasn't supposed to feel anything more. I wasn't even supposed to feel what I felt now towards him. My mother didn't know I was gay, and I didn't expect to tell her anytime soon considering she wasn't too fond of them. She wasn't homophobic, yet she wasn't very accepting either. It was a thin line that I had no desire to tread on.

"Are you feeling better, love?"

I hadn't even realized that I had been staring into Louis' eyes, and I was probably freaking him out right now. I nodded, and felt warmth shoot through me as his left arm caressed my waist.

I was enjoying the touch a bit more than I was probably supposed to, so I got up from the couch that I had been layed down on and walked into the bathroom.

****  
[Louis' POV]

I was left sitting on the couch by myself and the warmth that Harry had been radiating, left me faster than I could hold on to it. I sighed, figuring he probably just needed his privacy, and went back to the main room. Everybody was staring and I was extremely grateful that Harry wasn't here right now to have to face this.

"Nothing to see 'ere," I commented with a wave of my hands at the few people who were actually here.

The snow was starting to lift outside and although I should've been happy, I felt a sense of dread. I had to leave Harry soon. I didn't want to leave Harry. Especially after what just happened.

I was staring out into the dark of the world, leaning against the counter, when I felt the lightest touch on the back of my arm. I spun my head around to see Harry standing there, cheeks flushed.

"Hey," I breathed. He just stood there looking at me for a second, and then did the sign for "thanks." I waited for a second before he added, _Sorry to be an inconvenience._

I immediately shook my head, _Harry, you are not an inconvenience. You are anything but. I was happy to hold you while you calmed down._

He blushed slightly as I added, _Plus, you're really warm._

****

"Alright, everybody the snow had lifted and it is now safer than it was this morning to be on the road again. Due to the ice we would advi-" The manager of the place shut the TV back off and made sure eveyone knew that it was alright to go back home after the slight blizzard.

The Woman Who Tried to Open the Door and the ginger both left at around the same time. From sitting here for several hours I had learned that the ginger was actually a man named Ed and he worked only a few blocks down. He was actually only stopping by to get a coffee and a biscuit for his friend but then he got caught in a storm and what were the odds?

The Woman Who Tried to Open the Door actually had a name and turns out it was Jax, short for Jackie. She was really pretty and although I would never see her again, we both exchanged life stories. I was almost sad to see everyone go.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I noticed Harry looking outside with worry traced in his expression.

"Do you have a ride home, Harold?" I asked.

He shook his head, _I walked here. My house is only a few blocks away. He thought for a second before adding, My mum won't be home anyways. I can just stay here and wait until it gets a bit safer outside._

I would've been perfectly fine with this, only it was Harry and the idea of him staying here alone put a knot in my stomach.

"Why don't you come with me? We can chill at my place for a few hours."

At first I though I was going to be rejected by the way Harry's eyes went wide for a second, but proceeded to say nothing. He looked down, _It's fine. You've already done enough for me today._

I shook my head ferverently, "Nonsense. C'mon, we can watch a movie. What's your favorite?" I asked, opening the door for him.

_Love Actually_ , he thought for a second, _And Titanic._

"Great! I happen to have both of those on DVD," he smiled at that remark and slid into the passenger seat of my car.

The drive to my flat was quiet, with only the radio playing. I could see Harry fiddling with his fingers out of the corner of my eyes and I couldn't help but wonder why he was so nervous.

"Here we are!" I announced walking in and turning the lights on, "My humble abode."

Harry stood at the door, just taking it all in for a second. Was he going to join me?

He nodded and walked in, clutching his messenger bag tightly as if I would try to take it away from him.

We ended up eating some pizza I had leftover from last night as we watched _Love Actually._ The only reason I had it on DVD was due to the fact that a friend left it at my house awhile back and I never remembered to give it back and he never reminded me, so it kind of just always sat there.

And, well, everyone's a sucker for _Titanic._

I couldn't help but notice how much Harry relaxed after we finished the movie and I felt a sense of acheivement. Everything we were doing just felt so natural - like this was our weekly routine; and if I was being honest with myself, I wouldn't mind making this our weekly routine. As the credits were rolling, the question that I had been wondering for the longest time suddenly popped into my head again, and being as though Harry looked more comfortable than I had ever seen him, I figured this would be the best shot I had at asking.

"Harry?" I said to get his attention. His head immediately snapped towards me, and I saw his eyes light up as I called his name.

_Well, that was interesting,_ I thought.

"Can I ask you a kind of... personal question?" I rearranged myself on the couch so that I was facing him, my left leg underneath my right. I hadn't even realized we were this close until I could see every spec of anything on his face and I felt my heart flutter. He nodded slowly, and I noticed him tensing up again, therefore I promised myself to be as gentle as possible.

"Why don't - can't - or I don't know, but why... You don't talk," I finally said. Immediately I regretted my decision. His whole vibe went from comfortable and relaxed to uncomfortable and I-need-to-leave-right-now.

_It's a condition,_ he finally signed after a few seconds of staring widely at me. I knew I should've left it there but I was extremely curious as to why why and why.

Luckily, I didn't have to ask when he volunteered, _Something happened to me when I was little and it was really tramatizing for me so I didn't ever want speak about it but then I just stopped talking all together and my brain wouldn't allow me to talk at all no matter how hard I tried and I can't ever get words out because of some psychological barrier and it's really hard-_

"Harry, Harry, it's okay love, it's okay," I said as he started signing faster and I was afraid I wouldn't be able to keep up with him. I put my hands over his as I saw sadness in his eyes and tears began to well and the last thing I wanted to do was watch him cry.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up," I said. We stayed like that for a few minutes; his head buried in my chest and my hands spread over his broad back. He looked like he wanted to say something, and I guess I was right because he started a quick and short sentence.

_I_ can _talk. Only under certain conditions._

I nodded, afraid to ask what those conditions were. He didn't seem like he was going to volunteer that information, though, so I left it alone. Suddenly, the blank screen of my phone seemed very interesting and it was late and I wondered if Harry wanted me to take him home.

He shrugged, letting me know that his mum and sister were down at their cousin's house and he was alone for the weekend. I wanted to know why Harry wasn't with him, but the thought quickly dissapeared as the next sentence rushed out of my mouth, "Do you want to stay at my place for tonight?"

He immediately flushed profusely and told me, _I can't. I'm sorry you wouldn't want me to. I get,_ He paused, _I have nightmares. Alot. I would probably just wake you up._

"Do you really want to be by yourself at home, though?" Despite the smirk on my face, it was a serious question.

After a few minutes of debating, Harry decided to stay at my place for the night due to the unpleasant weather and his family's abscence. Secretly, I was hoping there was something more to his descision.

"Sleep well, Styles," I told him as he got comfortable on the couch. He was all wrapped up in a large comforter I broguth out of my closet, and with his head propped against the pillow he just looked like the cutest thing ever. If he wasn't so awkward, I probably would've just cuddled up right beside him and fell asleep with arms tight around his waist.

****

I woke up with an extreme urge to use the toilet. I looked at the clock, wondering why I needed to go at 1:30 in the morning, but it clicked when I remembered the tea I drank before I went to bed.   
I can't go to bed without a cup of tea, and my mother used to always tell me that's the reason I talked in my sleep.

Putting those thoughts aside, I trudged over to the bathroom, and did my buisness. Whilst washing my hands, however, I heard a muffled sound coming from the living room. It almost sounded like something soft hit the wall. I shrugged, remembering that I did get up really early and it was probably just my imagination. I opened the door to the bathroom and then heard a more audible sound.

Like someone speaking.

_Speaking?_

I turned around and went into the living room where Harry had been and squinted my eyes, trying to examine his figure.

He was hunched over, the comforter all messed up, with half of it hanging off of the bed. He was just sitting there and thankfully, hadn't noticed me coming in. His gaze was straight ahead, staring right through the black TV screen, not really looking at anything. Suddenly, he just dropped his head into his hands and his shoulders started to shake.

_Is he crying?_ I thought to myself. I wondered if I should say anything, and before I even fully contemplated that thought, I softly said his name. When he didn't look up, I realized that I had whispered it so softly that I hadn't even heard myself.

"Harry," I said a bit more firm, but not totally. His head shot up so fast I was afraid he hurt his neck.

"Are you - is everything alright?"

He just shook his head in one small movement and then put his face back in hands. This time, his shoulders weren't shaking. I was confused and had no idea what to do, so I slowly walked over. I knew Harry heard my steps due to the fact that he tensed up a bit. I sat down next to him, and for a second, I wondered if I could just say something nice and head on my merry way. 

That was what I intended, anyways.

I put my arm around his shoulder and almost immediately he relaxed into my touch; my heart fluttered knowing that I had this effect on Harry Styles. I let my hand caress his shoulder and he started sobbing into my chest.

"It's okay, love. Everything is going to be okay," I let my other arm snake sround his waist, so that I was full-on hugging him. After a few minutes of me whispering sweet nothings into his ear, his crying calmed down, but he stayed in the same position he was in.

"Harry, I don't," I paused, "I don't know what's happened to you in the past, or what shook you up so bad," I was suddenly reminded about my dream with the house, "but just know that... You're with me right now." 

That sentence made alot more sense in my head.

I elaborated, "I'll always protect you, love. Always. Nothing bad will ever happen to you when you're with me," his head slowly rose and looked me straight in the eyes - something he hardly ever did.

"I'll keep you safe."

With that, he inched his head closer to mine, so that our lips were brushing and foreheads were connected. We weren't even kissing yet, but I already felt the sparks shoot throughout my body and ignite me with warmth.

I wasn't sure which one of us finally connected our lips, but I guessed it was me. We just sat there for a few minutes, softly and tenderly kissing; both of us being ever so ginger. After a small time of that, I tilted my head slighty, allowing for better motion. Harry did the same and it was official: he was by far the best kisser I had ever experienced. I was reluctant to pull back, but I finally did, as I brought a hand up to cup his jaw.

As cheesy as it was, we both sat there, looking at each other before I remembered the time.

"It's pretty early. We should get back to bed," he nodded, and layed back down, drawing the comforter back over himself. I followed his lead, snuggling up right behind him, and wrapping my arms around his waist.

"Good night, lovely," I whispered in his ear. As he shivered, I wrapped my arms tighter around him and we fell asleep exactly like that.

Relaxed, secure and comfortable.


	5. Five

[Harry's POV]

I woke up, immediately terrified. I could hardly breathe and something was holding me extremely tight. For about a second, I wondered if I was being smothered by someone when I remebered what had transpired the night before. I cried, Louis saw, Louis held me, we fell asleep.

_You know that's not all that happened,_ my mind told me.

Something else happened. Something that I was not prepared for, yet I wasn't very opposed to the idea of. We had kissed. Louis and I kissed. I don't know if it was out of sympathy or lust or something more (which I hadn't dare think about) but either way - I liked it. There was absolutely no denying that.

I was snuggled into Louis' chest, his arms strong around my waist and for the first time in ages, I felt like I belonged. Something I hadn't felt since I was young and innocent. I was still young, of course, only about 18. Yet, I was far from innocent. My innocence was taken at around the age of 7 when I had to do _things_ my father asked of me; otherwise, I'd get hit. 

Most of the time, I got hit.

Others, I got worse.

As repressed memories started flooding there way back into my conscious, I began to shake. I didn't want to remember any of these things. I didn't ask for any of these things to happen to me and I hated every single one of the things I had to endure because I was young and stupid.

_Still young. Still stupid._ My brain reminded me.

****

[Louis' POV]

I woke up to a great warmth around me. Before I even opened my eyes, I knew it was Harry that was snuggled into my chest, and I smiled to myself, hoping he wasn't awake because I could stay here for ages. A few minutes passed by and I had yet to actually face the sunlight, when I felt Harry begin to shake. At first, I reasoned he was just could. The longer it went on, however, the more I began to realize that it wasn't a mere shiver and that the temperature was actually quite warm.

I opened my eyes slowly and tilted my head down at Harry. His brow was furrowed and he was breathing shakily onto my chest, snuggled tight against me. 

Normally, the sight would make me smile.

However, Harry shaking wasn't "normally."

"Harry? Are you alright?" I asked, morning grogginess still apparent in my voice. He simply nodded without looking up, opening his eyes, or moving at all. At this point, I knew he was far from alright.

"Hey," I took one hand from around his waist to lift his chin up to look at me, "Everything is going to be alright. You're safe here." 

I meant every word I said and that's how it usually was. Still, I did not expect Harry to extend his neck to give me a quick peck on the lips. That was completely unexpected. I looked at him in disbelief, yet pleasure, and he just smiled softly and went back down so that he was once again radiating warmth onto my chest.

"Would you like some tea?" I asked, after a few minutes of comfortable silence. He nodded, so I went into the kitchen and started fixing us both a cuppa. I heard Harry walk into the kitchen after a few minutes of me sitting by the kettle and waiting for it to boil so I asked him how he liked his tea. He shrugged, so when the water was ready, I left it exactly how I left mine.

We spent a few minutes there in the kitchen, just chatting with our hands, while sharing shy smiles and knowing looks. It felt like we had been doing this for ages. Like we had been best friends since birth and this was the most normal thing on the planet. The atmosphere in the room was comfortable and entirely _domestic._

We were both done with our tea at around the same time, so I took his and put it in the dishwasher alongside mine.

"Thanks," he said in a whisper so quiet that I wouldn't have been able to tell he said anything if I wasn't looking at his lips.

I almost responded.

That's what you're supposed to do, right? Say "you're welcome" when somebody thanks you? That would be the obvious thing to do. Yet, this situation wasn't obvious. Harry was mute. He told me he could talk under certain conditions, but he seemed to have no intention of sharing those conditions with me, so I had no idea what they were.

I (kind of) just heard Harry Styles speak.

I shot up so fast from my squatting position in front of the dishwasher that I banged my head on the ceiling of the contraption. Despite my now massive headache, I turned sharply to Harry.

"Did you-" I was at a complete loss of words, "I thought - you don't - can't - but," I paused for a few seconds to let the words form a cohesive sentence in my brain.

"Did you say something?" I finally gathered. He looked down and blushed profusely, then nodded slightly.

"Did you say thank you?" He didn't look up at me or nod ar anything so I felt I had to explain myself, "Sorry, I just- I couldn't really hear you. I just saw your lips move. I just assumed that noise came out." Harry blushed even more and kept his gaze trained on the suddenly interesting linoleum.

He kept his arms crossed and he was staring at the floor in such an intense way I had never seen someone stare at the floor in. I had no idea what was going on in his head, but I knew it wasn't good. I felt a sudden surge of panic - as if I knew he was thinking bad thoughts and it was my responsibility to stop them. I crossed over to him, and wrapped my arms around him in a large hug. He tensed up at first, but then relaxed a bit.

I wasn't exactly sure on what to say, so I didn't. We both just stood there: his arms around my neck; mine, his waist.

Suddenly, three small, yet powerful words found their way into my subconscious and I did all I could to push them back. 

_Not yet,_ I told myself as I placed a small kiss on Harry's forehead. I began to wonder what we actually were when an idea popped into my head.

"Can I take you on a date?" I asked, breaking our silence. He looked up at me, confused.

"Like, a proper date? We can go out to dinner and a movie or something," his eyes lit up and I took it as a yes.

"How about I take you home right now, and then pick you up later this evening? That way it can be, like, official," he was smiling brightly at me and I swore in that moment, I had not seen anything prettier. He nodded several times and I felt a warmness in my heart that I always seemed to have around Harry.

"Good. Sounds like a plan."

****  
[Harry's POV]

He pulled up in front of my house, with the help of Google Maps, and I looked out the window to see that my mum's car was there. I looked over to louis who had such a fond look in his eyes I didn't even want to admit that that look was reserved for me.

"So..." he said slowly, scanning my house, "You're mum's here?" I nodded.

"Okay, then. Is it okay if I pick you up around five?" I nodded again, feeling that sinking feeling in my stomach that I felt whenever I wanted to say something, but couldn't due to my phsycological barrier.

He put his hand under my chin and pulled me in for a slow, passionate kiss.

"I'll see you then, love," he smiled his amazing, sunshine smile, and I left the car feeling a bit whoozy.

"Harry Edward Styles! Where have you been?" My mother asked the second I walked in. I froze, remembering that I had been so caught up in LouisLouisLouis that I had completely forgotten to tell her that I was spending that night at someone else's place.

"I texted and called, but you never answered!" She said, getting angrier at my lack of response. I didn't know how to respond, though. I took my phone out of my back pocket only to see that I, in fact, did have three missed calls and four text messages. I looked up to meet my mother's angry eyes.

"Did you have you phone on silent again?" She asked. I nodded. She shook her head and mumbeled as she retreated back to her room saying something to the effect of "Don't know what I'm going to do." 

The sinking pit in my stomach got deeper and any warmth or love or belonging that I had felt with Louis, was gone. I, once again, felt cold, worthless, and as an outcast. There was nothing I could do about it. On the way to my room, I passed by my sister, Gemma, who was just exiting the bathroom.

"I saw that," she said to me. My heart picked up and I turned to face her.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Who was that guy that dropped you off?"

I shrugged.

"Well, he doesn't seem like just a friend to me," she stated, reading my mind exactly, "friends don't kiss," she added very quietly. My heart skipped a beat and only one word was running through my mind.

_Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit._

We just stood there for a moment, daring the other one to take the next move.

"You should tell mum before it gets really serious," With that, she walked into the living room. I went into my room, threw my work bag on the floor, and collapsed onto my bed.

I wanted to feel Louis again. I wanted his warmth and his soothing words. I wanted the way he caressed my hair as I was falling asleep, and then still held me as I started shaking. I wanted the way that he told me everything was going to be okay, and I wanted the way that I felt around him.

A few hours passed by of me just sitting in my room watching TV or listening to music; going out to the kitchen every once and awhile for a snack. I was watching a certain show when the main characters started kissing and it reminded me alot of Louis and myself.

I imagined the way our lips worked in perfect unison and I felt an odd sensation that I don't ever remember feeling. Ever.

I felt a bit of heat circulate around my lower region and although no one else was in the room with me, I felt extremely embarassed. Despite this, I needed friction. I needed something against me to ease the longing that I had for what I knew would never be.

I placed a pillow inbetween my legs and pressed it against me, causing an involuntary moan, and an extreme dissapointment - it didn't make any longing go away at all. If anything, it made my want for this - for Louis - stronger. As if we had some sort of telepathic connection, he sent me a text, playfully asking if I was getting ready for tonight. I spent a few minutes debating wheather or not I should ask him to send a picture of himself because that's exactly what I needed.

Me: _Show me what you're wearing_

Louis: _Well, I just got out of the shower so I'm wearing nothing but a towel ;)_

I stifled another moan. Was this man trying to kill me?

Me: _All the more reason to send me a picture ;) xx_

Louis: _Wow, I don't think I've ever seen this side of you, haha_

I was about to send another text when he sent me a picture of himself with a small towel hanging low on his waist. I threw my head back and placed my left hand in my boxers, gripping my length. He looked so fucking hot and suddenly I found myself wishing that it was him touching me right now. I looked at the picture again, causing me only to go harder.

Louis: _Satisfied?_

I could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

Me: _Absolutely ;)_

I finished up my buisness and took a shower, hoping to scrub my shame away. The more I thought about the date, the more excited I got. I didn't even care where he wanted to take us, as long as he was himself.

And as I waited for him in my bedroom, thinking of him and imagining him, I felt content. Content with my life for once. Well, not all of it, just all the parts that involved Louis.

I had a sinking suspicion in the back of my head that there was something bound to get in the way of Louis and I. Nothing could stay perfect forever, right?


	6. Six

[Harry's POV]

I looked at myself in the mirror, and felt utterly dissapointed. I was wearing a plain white T-shirt and dark jeans, yet seemed to be lacking any pleasure in appearance. Suddenly, I began to wonder what Louis saw in me.  
Was he just trying to get laid?

_No, because you've known each other for months and have hardly kissed._

As stupid as the thought was, did he just chat me up for discounted tea?

_You know that's not true._

I was trying so desperately to find an alterior motive Louis could've had for spending time with me. Come to think of it, there weren't many alterior motives he could've had. As a person, I just didn't have much to offer.  
Which again, led me to wondering why Louis wanted to spend so much time with me when he could be doing so many other things and falling in love with someone who could actually respond to him.

  _Falling in love?_ No. No. Not falling in love. Neither of us were in love. We couldn't be. We hardly knew each other, it just wasn't logical. Then again, is love ever logical?

The word 'infatuation' kept ringing in my mind as Louis buzzed me.

Louis: _Leaving now. Be there in ten xx_

I shot back a quick 'okay' when Gemma's words came back to my conscious.

"Better tell mum."

I took in a deep breath and headed into the kitchen, where I knew mum would be making dinner. Just as I suspected, she was hunched down, looking into the refrigerator, probably thinking of what to make for tonight. I waited until she closed the fridge and then jumped, startled, when she saw me.

"Oh, Harry! You scared me, darling," she had her hand placed over her heart and I was twisting my fingers in my hands.

"Is everything alright?" She gave me a quick once-over and then added, "Why are you all dressed up?"

I took another deep breath, unaware as to why I was so nervous. In this moment, I wanted to lay everything out on the table. Tell her I was gay, tell her about Louis and tell her everything I never had the chance to.

_I'm going out with some friends,_ I simply signed. She looked shocked.

"Friends? What friends?" I knew she didn't mean to spite me, but from that comment, I definately took a blow to my self-esteem. I shrugged back, and she crossed her arms, becoming impatient.

"Harry," everything was confirmed in that harsh tone. I hated when she used that tone especially that tone with me because that was the exact tone she used when she found out all of the things that had transpired between my father and me. That was the tone that made me shiver.

_Someone I met awhile ago. We're just going to hang out._

I knew she was still skeptical by the way she raised her eyebrow, but after she made me promise I'd be safe, I went into the living room to wait for the rest of the night.  
It was approximately 5:03 when there was a knock at the door. Not that I was keeping track or anything.

I opened it to a smiling Louis with his hands behind his back.

"Hi," he greeted. I gave a small wave, and he then took his hands from behind his back to reveal a small boquet of roses, "I got these for you." His cheeks reddened slightly as I took the flowers in my hands. For a moment there was nothing more perfect. For a moment.

I held up a finger, guesturing for him to wait a moment as I went into my room and placed the flowers on my nightstand. When I came back, my mother was standing at the door making small-talk with Louis. My heart quickly sped up and in that moment I knew I should've had Louis meet me somewhere, rather than him pick me up.

"Yeah, we were just planning on going to a movie or something," Louis said, sounding as sweet as can be.

"Just the two of you?" She asked in that tone of suspicion. Before he could answer, I made my way into the living room, and gave my mum the look of 'stop asking this man questions'.

"Well, that was the plan. If that's okay with you, of course," she didn't answer the question, but responded with "Just as friends?"

I blushed, but nodded. Louis hesitated at my response, but then nodded aswell. Suddenly I felt sick.

"Okay," my mother said slowly, "Well, have fun. Call me if anything happens, okay?"

With that, we were out the door. There was a thoughtful silence between us on the way to the car: Louis' hands were in his pockets, and his head was watching his feet the entire time. We finally got into the car and as he started up the engine, he asked, "Just as friends?"

_Well, shit._

I just put my head in my hands and took a few breaths, angry at myself for being... well, me.

So many thoughts and reasons and explinations were swarming my head, but I settled for signing, _My mum doesn't know I'm gay._

Louis' eyes continued to look sad, as if I only thought of him as a friend.

Other than us being more than friends, I wasn't entirely sure what we were. We kissed and hugged, but other than that, did we have a label?

He just nodded, and I knew it was risky to do this in front of my house even if we were in a car, but I extended myself so that I could kiss him on the cheek. I didn't pull back much, so when he turned his face to meet mine, our lips were hardly an inch apart. I closed the gap and kissed him with all of the passion I could muster at that moment.

I pulled away, and sat myself back in my seat and just looked down at my hands in my lap. I thought Louis was actually mad at me, but when he placed his hand on my thigh, and sighed with a smirk on his face I knew everything was okay.

"You are truly something else, Styles," He pulled out of the driveway, and I realized I had no idea where we were going.

****  
[Louis' POV]

"Here we are," I said pulling into the theater, "So, I didn't know what movie you liked, but I figured everyone likes a good thriller?"

Harry's eyes widened at that statement, and I chuckled.

"Harry, I'm kidding," immediately he relaxed, "Do you really think I would bring you to a horror, movie? C'mon, love, I'm not that oblivious."

Instead of smiling and blushing like he would've normally done, he raised an eyebrow at me.

"Oh, so you do think I'm that oblivious, huh?" I joked, shutting the car off completely and turning to face him.

He was silently laughing and the way he held his stomach while he laughed was just _so fucking adorable_ I just wanted to wrap my arms around him and kiss the tip of his nose and the side of his face until we were too tired to function.

He looked at me and just brushed me off with his hand, as if telling me that he was joking. Well, I would not forgive him. He pouted, and who the hell was I to resist that?

We finally got out of the car and made our way into the theaters. Despite the fact that we had kissed and hugged several times, I was still well aware of the fact that he didn't liked to be touched, yet I didn't know if he was averse to me touching him. We were crossing the street when I decided to link my hand with his, and I pretended not to see the slight smirk that appeared on his face. I pretended not to feel the way he gripped my hand back, and the way he blushed slightly. Nope. Didn't see or feel any of that.

We were standing in line for movie tickets, and a few key words from the conversation behind us caused me to start eaves dropping.

"Look at those two," a moment of silence, "the ones holding hands."

"Fucking disgusting."

"I can't believe that's even legal."

"Freaks."

I assumed they thought they were being discreet with their conversation, and I wasn't going to do anything, but when Harry's grip on my hand tightened at that last word, my heart became fueled with anger. With the way that one word affected him, I began to imagine that he had probably been called that alot. He probably had to endure alot of name-calling and bullying at school, and that just didn't sit right with me.

I knew that Harry didn't like when all the attention was on him, though, so calling those girls (and I think guy?) out would only result in more drastic circumstances.  
So insted of saying anything, I just looked towards Harry, who was clearly taking offense to the harsh language they were using. He looked back at me and slightly smiled, and the fact that those words were actually hurting him just made me angrier, yet sadder at the same time. I gave him a quick peck on the lips, and took my arm from holding his hand to around his waist.

I brought my lips close to his ear, "Don't pay attention to them, Hazza. They're just a bunch of uneducated losers who've never had a proper relationship," He looked down and silently giggled at that and I swore in that moment there's no way that boy could get any cuter.

The movie was some animated film that I didn't even really take a second look at, I just knew that Harry would love it. Judging by the wide smiles and silent laughs and fixation on the screen the entire time, I would say that he definately enjoyed it. I probably would've enjoyed it, too if I wasn't so busy watching each and every one of the younger boy's moves. The theater was quite warm, so I shrugged off my jacket, and absolutely did not notice the way Harry watched me from the corner of his eyes and then fidgeted in his seat a bit when I did a somewhat body-roll to get it off of my arms.

Taking off the jacket was useless, however, when we got outisde and it was extremely cold. Immediately, Harry wrapped his arms around himself and I had one arm through my jacket when I remembered chivalry.

"You look like you need this alot more than I do," I said, adding a chuckle. He shook his head to protest, but I put it around his shoulders. He looked at me, question in his eyes.

"I'll be fine, Harold. I love the cold," that was a lie, but I wasn't about to tell that to someone who would feel bad for hurting a fly. He linked our hands, and we walked the rest of the way to the car. I wanted to ask Harry to be my boyfriend, that was for sure on the agenda. I didn't know how or when, but I knew why and that was good enough.

I went on the passenger side of the vehicle, but before I opened the door for him, I pressed him against the car door and softly kissed him. He smiled into it, and despite the cold atmosphere, his lips were really warm. I pulled away and looked into his eyes.

Now or never.

"So, Harry, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you - well, more like ask you about. Um. See, I was wondering if you, like," I paused and looked into those beautiful green eyes that would never cease to inspire me.

"Will you be my boyfriend?" His smile grew even wider and I clarified, "I mean, like, I know that we, like, do alot of boyfriend-y things already, but I just wanted to... I don't know, make it official?"

He nodded vigorously and wrapped his arms around my neck in order to kiss me. The kiss was sweet, and warm for about a minute, but things quickly got heated. My hands were under his shirt and even his torso was warm and did this boy ever get cold? His hands were tangeled in the mess I claimed to be hair, and I had him pressed so hard against the car, I thought he'd go right through it at any moment. The tightness in my pants was getting tighter and tighter every second, so for some quick relief, I pressed my hips against his. He pressed back and there we were, grinding against each other in less than 20 degree weather. 

I trailed my hands down to his length and pressed lightly against it. He threw his head back, eyes squeezed shut, and let out a steamy breath, letting me know that he definately liked that. With one hand up his shirt, the other palming him through his pants, I trailed my lips down his neck and stopped right above the collarbone to leave a mark. At that, his hips jutted against mine and I loved the way he responded to clearly to every single one of my touches.

I was about to ask him if he wanted to head back to my place, but his phone vibrated in his pocket, and I let go of him, so he could answer. He checked it and immediately frowned at the text.

Mum: _Harry, please come home, it's getting late_

He showed me the text and I also pouted. I really wanted some more of that. He shot back a quick reply as I opened the car door for him. He was about to get in, but then signed at me, _Is that okay? If you want me to stay, I will._

The offer was tempting, yet I knew how Harry's mum would probably be, so I decided it'd be better off if I got him home.

I put my hand on his chin and pulled him in for a much softer kiss, "Trust me, Harry. There's nothing more I want right now than to take you back to my place and have my way with you," I paused as Harry's eyes flashed with an unknown look, "but for both our sakes we should get you home."

The drive back was comfortable, and it was filled with kisses at stop lights, hand-holding and every once in awhile, a hand that traveled a bit too far up my thigh, but I enjoyed it. As cheesy as we may have been. He walked me to the front of my house and all of the lights were off, so I assumed everyone was sleeping.

"So, I guess this is where the night ends," he said, his breath turning white in the cold air. I nodded. He put his hands on my hips, and my arms went inbetween our chests as he kissed me slowly and passionately.

"I'll see you later, love," I was still too stunned by his magic to respond right away. Luckily, I caught myself before I took too long to respond, and I just signed a simple, Goodnight. 

One more peck on the lips, and he was in his car and I was alone on my doorstep. I waited until he passed the corner to inwardly squeal like a school girl as I made my way to my room.

As I got ready for bed and thought about the night, everything felt so surreal. I had never been very content with my life, and at times, had even contemplated ending it. Now, however, all I wanted to do was live my life. For the first time in what seemed like forever, I felt loved, appreciated, and _wanted._ I thought of the way Louis kissed me and held me and whispered to me and touched me. He was the most wonderous human being on the planet and no one was going to tell me otherwise.

Right or wrong, no one was going to tell me otherwise.


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: EXCESSIVE DEPICTIONS OF NON CONSENTUAL ACTIVITY

[Harry's POV]

The second I woke up with Louis' jacket wrapped around me, I knew something wasn't right. It wasn't my current situation, though. It was something that happened yesterday, despite the fact that I had an amazing time. I racked my brain, going through everything that happened step-by-step until I reached a certain part of yesterday that made my heart sink.

_"There's nothing more I want right now than to take you back to my place and have my way with you..."_

My eyes popped open and I froze.

_"Take you back to my place and have my way with you..."_

Have his way with me? I knew he meant it in only the best of ways, but I didn't care. That sentence scared me through every fiber of my being, and suddenly seeing Louis didn't sound like the best idea. I wanted to see him, no doubt, but I didn't like the feeling of wanting - no, _needing_ to be touched that had found it's way into my system when he had me pressed up against his car. In that moment I wanted everything Louis had to offer and I knew he felt the same.

The last time I felt that specific feeling had been ages ago when my father stayed home with me while my mum and sister went shopping. He told my mother I wasn't feeling well, even though I remember feeling fine. They seemed to buy it, though, and so I was left alone with my dad. I was only about five at the time, so what possible harm could my dad have done? 

Tears started rolling down my cheeks as I remembered the way I was touched and felt and grabbed in places I had yet to discover for myself. I remember being extremely confused and somewhat horrified; at the same time though, there was this strange feeling that set itself in my heart that was asking for _more and more and mo-_

I shot up from my sleeping position in my bed, doing anything to shun those thoughts. I couldn't go back there. Those memories had been repressed for so long I feared what lived in my subconscious. I had that feeling yesterday with Louis, only I wasn't confused and horrified, I just had that feeling of wanting more affection and touching and that scared the fucking crap out of me. I knew Louis was nothing to be afraid of; he was safe, warm and completely harmless. Yet, I was afraid of what physical connection would bring.

As I remembered the way Louis and I were pressed together with his hand on my crotch, I began to feel a knot in my stomach. At the same time, I had a fire in my heart that told me to chase the feeling of being needed physically, to pursue it in anyway possible.

I tucked myself further into my sheets and let the tears roll down my burning face. Before I knew it, I was sobbing into my blankets. Confused, and conflicted, I felt dirty all over. Like there was a layer of grime that just wouldn't go away, no matter how many salt scrubs I used in the shower. 

Fresh air sounded really nice, as my room started to feel stale and a thick knot had settled itself into my stomach. I got up from my bed and looked to my phone. The screensaver was a picture I took of Louis when we were at my shop and he was smiling bright and looking off to the side at a joke I had previousily told him. I remember being surprised at how funny he thought the joke was and I had already had my phone out, so when he smiled his brightest smile, I gave no hesitation to taking a photo of it. He didn't like the photo and told me he didn't know why I wanted it as my screensaver, but when I expressed how beauitful I thought he was, he just smiled at me shyly and kissed me down my neck.

The horrid sickness in my stomach went away for half a second before I remembered the reason my memories had started to flood back in the first place. Somehting red caught my attention out of the corner of my eye, and I saw the beautiful roses Louis had purchased me, and then I remebered that I was wearing his sweater. I was surprised my mum didn't see the roses and interrogate me about them, but not wanting to take any chances, I carefully placed them under my bed. I shut my phone off and pocketed it, not wanting to be disturbed while I was out.

I slipped some shoes and sweats on, and headed out of the door. Thankfully, the rest of my family wasn't awake, so I was able to slip out relatively easily. It was only then I realized it was four a.m. What the hell was I doing going out at four a.m.? Years of "stranger danger" and "saftey first" training from primary school started flooding my mind, but I quickly shoved them away because I was 18 and what are the chances of something acutally happening?

I went down my street, the peak of the sun barely visible above the horizon, and I walked wherever my feet would take me. I took even breaths in and out and counted my footsteps until I reached a small park. It was cute and completely desolate, so I decided to walk around in it. In the middle of the park, by a beautiful pond with lillypads, I turned around to see two men walking towards me. They were walking at a leisurley pace, and I figured that they were coming from work or maybe they couldn't sleep either. There I stopped, staring at the pond and I inched a bit closer to see my relfection. It only took a second before I stepped away, suddenly wishing I was far far away from this place of tourment and confusion.

Footsteps to my left were becoming more and more audible, and I just kept my head down before I realized that the person had stopped right next to me. The weird part about it, though, was that when I flickered my eyes to my left for a second, I only saw one man - one of the two that were originally walking.

 _What happened to the other one?_ I thought. Before I had a chace to complete my thought process, the man spoke up.

"Hello," I brought my head up fully to meet his eyes and immediately I got a bad vibe. Something about the way he looked at me caused bright and loud alarms to go off in my head, screaming at me to run away.

My feet remained planted to the ground. I looked back at the pond, freezing all of my body movements, hoping and praying he would go away.

Needless to say, he didn't.

"I'm Vann, by the way," he stuck out his hand, but I kept my gaze trained on the pond, merely nodding to awknowledge that I heard him.

"Not very talkative?" He paused for a second before speaking up again, "That's cool. Not many people are at four in the morning," he chuckled to himself and took a cigarette out of his pocket to light it. He sat there puffing on his cigarette for a few moments, and the smoke wasn't exactly hhelping my whole not-feeling-very-well situation, so I started to walk away.

"Hey, wait! Where're you going?" He jogged up to me and it was then I heard two pairs of footsteps behind me. I turned my head to see the man next to me and another, bigger man following us from a few meters behind.

"Do you want me to take you back to your house? I have a car parked just one block down," I sped up my steps and shook my head at his offer.

 _What the fuck is this guy?_ I thought to myself.

I heard him call someone's name (Clark?) and the man behind us sped up, aswell. At this point, I broke out into a full-on sprint down the street.

"Wait, wait, wait!" He stopped himself right in front of me, "Look, I didn't mean to scare you - geez, I'm sorry. I-I was just looking for someone to talk to."

 _At four in the morning!?_ I wanted to scream.

He put his hand on the back of his neck, and for a second, he looked like a reasonably nice guy.

Until I felt someone grab me from behind and hold onto me extremely tightly.

Until I was lifted off of the ground and directed back to the park.

Until I was flopped back down on the grass - kicking and fighting my way back to freedom.

"Why isn't he making any noise?" The larger guy said, pinning me to the grass with his knees and taking something out of his small bag he carried.

"Clark, I told you - he's a fucking mute. He won't scream. I looked it up," Vann said, throwing his dart into the grass and suffocating it out with his foot.

"How do you know he's mute? What if it's just an act? Remember that one-"

"Yeah, yeah," he waved Clark off, "My sister works with him. She told me all about him,"

At that moment, nothing short of true terror rose inside of me. My heart started racing faster than I had ever known to be possible, and I started kicking harder than I ever knew I was capable of. Hitting him right in the tailbone, Clark hardly flinched.

"Oh, no. You're not getting away from us, mate," he said quietly, "You know too much." My hands were pinned above my head, but I flailed my legs as much as I could.

"Just fucking sedate him already, he's more restless than the last one," Vann said. Clark took a cloth and a bottle out of his bag, and dabbed a bit of the clear substance onto the cloth.

"Someone's coming, man, hurry the fuck up!" Vann harshly whispered.

"Hold his fucking legs down or I can't do shit!" Clark responded.

Suddenly a pair of hands were on my legs, and after a few tries to pin me down fully, I was rendered completely useless.

I needed to scream. I had to. Screaming was the only option to get the attention of whatever passerby there might be at that moment. I wanted to scream with all of my might. I tried, but failed. Nothing but a bit of extra air coming out of my nostils. My eyes started welling up with tears as I realized this might just be it. This might be the day I die. I didn't want to die like this, but I had no idea what they were going to do to me and I had no idea of the consequences.

The cloth was suddenly placed over my mouth and I had no time to deny it. I held my breath, hoping and praying that would stop the effects of the drug. Starting to feel slightly dizzy, my bones went heavy like lead. My senses were numb as Clark lifted himself off of me, and they both looked down at me. 

"Look, I don't know if you're still conscious or not, but this isn't personal. I just haven't had a good fuck in awhile and you're so damn hot," he took his hand to caress the side of my face, and I tried to move. I really, earnestly tried.

Without another word, I was picked up again and before I knew it, tossed into some big, weird contraption. It was really big and it had wheels and - oh, it was a car. A van. 

It was a van.

I couldn't be sure what was happening when I felt my pants slip off and I couldn't be sure what was going on when I felt something slip into my arsehole. I squirmed a bit and someone moaned from in front of me. I lifted my head slightly to realize that there was only one man in the car, now. Vann. The other one was gone. My head crashed back down after a second, and something slipped out of me. 

My arse hurt extremely bad. 

Louis could make it go away. I knew Louis could do something. Louis could save me, right? He always told me that I'd be safe with him. Where was he? Why wasn't Louis here to protect me?

Tears started welling up again as I felt something much larger, and much thicker enter me. It was extremely unpleasant and excrutiatingly painful. I was hating every second of it and I wasn't even sure what it was. This wasn't sex. Sex had to be consentual. What was this?

I lifted my head slightly again to see that Vann was pushing into me with his cock and there was blood smeared around my arse and my head once again crashed back down, not being able to support myself. I felt extremely sick. This wasn't right. I started trying to squirm around again, trying desperately to get myself out of this situation, but my bones were heavier than normal and my brain was too fuzzy to send correct signals.

Tears started pouring down my face, while I had absolutely no physical ability to stop them.

I wanted Louis. He wasn't here. Why wasn't Louis here? I opened my mouth, trying to shout, but nothing prevailed. Something hot shot inside of me and I felt so disgusting I wasn't even able to put it into words. I wasn't sure, but I was guessing Vann wasn't in me anymore when he opened the car door and whispered something to the man outside.

"I only have one."

"I told you to get more."

"My dealer was outta town, I didn't see him this week."

"Are you sure only one will work? We usually use two."

"Just slip him the fucking mickey and get him outta here already."

Someone was on top of me and they slipped me a pill and told me to swallow. At this point, my bones and muscled were so weak, I choked on the small and distasteful pill. I recieved a slap across my face and - wow, would you look at that, the pill went down my throat. My heavy eyelids finally shut, much to my dismay.

At this point, I wanted to die. For death was better than to live. I did not want to remember any of this. I didn't want to wake up with more memories of anything ever again. As my mind started to go blank, I was only faced with one question bouncing around in my head:

_Why me?_


	8. Eight

[Harry's POV]

I woke up, my head hurting like never before. I went to go turn it in an attempt to block out the sunlight, but there was something blocking my ability. I heavily lifted my head backwards to find that I was leaning up against a brick wall. I looked around only to realize that I was sitting in an alleyway. I felt gross, disgusting even, and extremely groggy.

The worst part is, I didn't know why. I couldn't remember anything. The last thing I remembered was going to sleep the night before. I remembered going to sleep in a bed - in my bed. So why was I in an alleyway?

I was so incredibly confused and scared I started crying. I hugged myself tight and took ragged breaths in and out. I felt horrible inside and out. What scared me the most was not how I ended up here, but why. If I couldn't remember the events that preceeded this, then how was I supposed to know that everything was okay? I had absolutely no idea what to do, so I layed there for about thiry minutes, sobbing and crying and jumping at any footstep or crack or sound within a five foot radius.

I figured that, at the least, I could leave the alley and find a street sign - something to identify where I was.

I slowly rose, and the second I stood up straight a shooting pain ran through my entire body; fire lighting up in my arse. I sank back down with a shout of pain.

What the fuck is this?

My heart icked up and started racing extremely fast, as not only was I confused and scared, I was worried. Worried because I had no clue as to why my arse was aching in the worst way possible.

I must've fallen, I told myself, Yeah. Somehow I fell on my bum. That's all.

That's all.

I hit something in my backpocket as I slid down on the ground and realized that I had still had my phone. I wasn't completely hopeless after all. I took it out and turned it on, seeing five missing notifications the second it lit up.

(6:00)Mum: _Harry, you weren't here when we woke up. Where are you?_

(6:44am)Mum: _I need you to text me back_

(7:00am)Gemma: _Where are you?_

(7:32am)Gemma: _ANSWEEERRR YOOUURRR PHHOOONNEEE_

(8:56am)Mum: _text me ASAP_

I checked the time on my phone to see that it was 9:10am. I was about to reply to my mum's texts when I got a new one.

Louis: _Morning, love :) xx_

At that, I choked. Everything was so upside down and twisted in my world, yet everything was so perfect with Louis. Everything was always perfect with Louis. I always forgot about everything when Louis was holding me in his arms and telling me how cute I was. I think that's the reason I sent him a text back.

Me: _Louis, I woke up in a strange alley and I have no idea how I got here and I don't know where I am_

Louis: _What?! Are you serious?!_

Me: _Please come get me, Louis, I'm so scared I don't know what happened and I'm aching and sore all over I don't know what to do_

Louis: _I'm on my way. Can you give me a clue as to where you are? Like, a building sign or anything?_

I looked around, and the alleyway was pretty much completely void of any signs of life. I turned slightly to see that there was a building right across from me with giant neon letters that spelled out "UPPER CRUST."

Me: _There's a sign across from me that says UPPER CRUST. I dont even know where that is though._

Louis: _That's all the way across town. How did you get over there?_

My heart sank. I had absolutely no idea how I got over here.

Me: _Please hurry._

That was the last text I sent. I sat quitely, watching people walk by every now and then with their dogs and children; everyone just living the day as it passed by, their lives as normal as the next. Then again, it might not've been. You can never tell what someone has gone through, and if they're still going through it. As humans, we like to think we know everything and we can tell when someone is going through something. In reality, though, we would never know unless that person told us, and we knew it straight from the horse's mouth.

Although I knew this hadn't happened before, I was struggling with an odd sense of déjà vu. I felt like, whatever happened last night -

No. Wait. I remember going to sleep last night. I remember physically putting myself in bed and I remebered drifting to sleep. Yes. There's no way this happened last night. I knew I wasn't a sleep walker, so that was out of the question. Was it this morning, then? Did I get here this morning?

That couldn't be possible. I never leave my bed early morning. What would I have possibly done? I felt it at the tip of my tounge, the forefront of my brain. It was begging for a way out and I was searching and concentration and straining as hard as I could to come out with any recollection at all of what happened.

I felt it, and my hands were almost physically clenching and unclenching, just trying to remember one detail that might spark into a reasonable exlplination. My mind was whirring at 1,000 miles per hour when I heard a car screech to a halt, and the car door slam shut.

Someone was calling my name and my attention snapped upwards. Louis came running down the street and stopped at the end of the alley.

"Harry? Are you here?" He asked, despite knowing I couldn't answer him. He started walking down the alley and I realized that it was dark here, so he might not be able to see me, crouched in the corner. It took much strength, but I used my weak legs to stand up, my back scraping along the hard brick wall. I took a step forwards and must not've walked in awhile, because I tripped to the side, and my ribcage slammed into a dumpster, making a loud echoing "boom."

Louis' attention snapped towards the sound and we made eye contact. Suddenly I felt embarassed for calling him to help me while I was in this desperate of a situation. He ran over to me and took me in his embrace.

"Are you okay, Harry? What happened? Wha-" He stopped mid-sentence and gave me a quick once-over.

"Harry," he hardly breathed out, "Who did this to you?" His voice cracked and I realized I had no idea what I looked like. Before this reaction was prompted out of Louis, I figured I looked fine and didn't even register the fact that something _really bad_ might've happened to me.

I shook my head and just buried myself in his neck.

"Are you okay? Can you walk?"

I nodded weakly because, yes, by the definition of walking I can walk. At the same time, every step was a shot of pain through my arse and lower back.

"C'mon, sweetheart. I'll take you back to my flat, is that okay?" I nodded again.

He tucked an arm around my waist as I put my arm over his shoulder, and he guided me to the car; we recieved all sorts of weird looks from people, but that didn't stop Louis from tightening his grip on me and then easing me into the passenger seat. He went around to the other side to drive, and it took about half an hour to finally reach his flat.

As he helped me inside, he sat me on the couch and my tears welled up in pain at the sudden harsh contact with my arse. On the way here, I made sure to send a few texts to my mum and Gemma saying that all is well and I will explain when I get home.

In this moment, I felt so numb. So incredibly numb to every sense and even though I could feel pain, it was muffled in a weird sense. Almost like it was there, but I had the option not to notice it, and after a few hours of being at Louis', I was starting to worry. What if I stopped feeling completely? Did something damage my central nervous system, or is so much going on in my subconscious that my conscious doesn't have enough "power" to send the correct signals? I looked over to my right to see Louis.

I was now resting in his bed, letting my mind wander and he was sitting next to me and had a show on that I usually loved watching. In this moment, however, I didn't care the least bit about the show. 

I was in a pair of Louis' sweats and T-shirt, considering I took a shower earlier, and the clothes were a bit small, but just enough to still feel comfortable. I didn't even realize I was staring at Louis until he paused the show.

"Is everything alright, love?" He asked. I nodded, and cupped his face in my hands, clashing our mouths together. I wanted to feel somthing, anything - love, hate, lust, shock, anything at all if it meant _feeling_ it. Our lips moved together in perfect synchronicity like usual, and, although my heart warmed a bit on the inside, I still felt numb.

I started kissing with more intensity, willing my brain to jump-start and pull me out of this scary haze. 

Nothing.

I felt nothing.

Feeling nothing with Louis was worse than feeling nothing in general.

I finally pulled back, a smirk on Louis' face, but a grimace on mine. He asked if I was okay, what was going on, if I was remembering something. No, not at all. Without another word, I stood up and went to the bathroom, sickness pooling in the bottom of my stomach. I hunched over the toilet and vomited everything Louis had fed me and everything else I might've eaten inbetween episodes. I felt sick with everything that I couldn't feel, and dirty with everything I coudn't remember.

Eventually, I returned home and explain to my family what happened. They were in complete shock - so much so, that they didn't even believe me at first. A few shed tears and skeptical looks later, I found myself in bed, drifting to sleep. It was only 8:00pm, and I usually went to sleep at around 10 or 11, but I was completely and utterly exhausted. I felt sick with the lack of nutrients, lack of remembering, and lack of completeness. Any subtle warmth that crept into my veins when I was with Louis was long gone, and so I was shivering in my bed, willing my mind to drag me into an unconcious state. 

I was so confused, scared, and empty that I didn't even bother to respond to Louis' texts, asking me how everything was going, and if I needed anything. Normally, I would've been craving Louis' touch and breath on the back of my neck as I drifted to sleep.

However, "normal" was surpassed long ago when I woke up in an alley with no recollection of anything. My mum figured I needed to go to the hospital, and we had an appointment scheduled next week anyway, so that wouldn't be too big of a hassle.

Upon returning home, I took another more shower, taking advantage of the fact that I knew my mum wouldn't say anything about it considering the traumatization I was currently undergoing. I scrubbed every inch of my body with the Loofa pad, yet didn't feel any cleaner once I exited. 

Lying in my bed thinking about it, I began to get extremely frustrated.

Anger. Good. I could go on anger.

In this moment, I was considering being angry good, because it was the first emotion I had _actually_ felt this entire day. I held onto it, and let it consume all of my thoughts. 

Healthy or not, it felt right.

As if holding on to that one emotion triggered some sort of gateway to all of my other emotions, I was bombarded with every feeling at once. 

My heart tugged at my love for Louis.

My veins burned at my hatred towards my situation.

My stomach churned with my distaste for life.

My skin heated with my confusion towards everything.

I decided to text Louis afterall, and although right now I wanted nothing more to be cradled in his arms, I settled on a simple and short goodnight text, telling him we'll hang out tomorrow and thanking him for everything he did today.

Upon a romantic whim, I changed him contact name from "Louis" to "LOUIS My Love."

I hadn't told him how much I loved him yet, and I didn't know when he would be ready for it, so I told myself I'd tell him tomorrow. I wanted to make _something_ in my life simple, and love is simple.

Two people in love is as simple as it gets.

That's what I told myself as I drifted into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all feedback is always appreciated!


	9. Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter. There will be an epilouge, though, so stay tuned!

[Louis' POV]

I woke up to sunlight streaming through my windows and birds chirping a melodic song. I smiled for about half a second when I remembered yesterday. My gut twisted and I worried for Harry's saftey. How are we ever going to find out what happened? He can't remember anything. Alot of sick thoughts started popping into my head as I wondered how he could've just lost his memory like that. I reached for my laptop on the side of my bed and typed various things into the search engine.

I typed everything from memory loss, to anti-depressants, to illegal drugs when my eye caught on one search result in particular.

ROHYPNOL: Effects, Hazards, & Meathods of Abuse

I clicked on it, and scrolled down the page, reading everything it wanted to tell me. A chill ran down my spine when I discovered it was also known as a "date-rape" drug; a drug that would make a victim of sexual assault unable to remember or clearly recall the attack. The website also said that some residual effects can still be found up to 12 or more hours after the administration. I cursed to myself when I realized it had been far more than 12 hours and if this is what happened to Harry, we would have no way of knowing. 

Who said this is what happened, anyways? I thought to myself, shutting my laptop a bit more fiercely than anticipated. My blood boiled and my stomach churned at the thought of anything as unpleasant as that happeneing to Harry.

My Harry.

I sighed as my phone lit up with a text.

From Harry :): _can i come over? i need a distraction :P_

I immediately sent a text back, letting him know I'd pick him up in fifteen minutes.

And that's exactly what I did.

****

"Kale smoothies? Are you kidding me? No, milkshakes are definitely better. In every way," i said arguing the fact the kale smoothies were better than a normal milkshake. Which is absolutely insane, because everybody likes milkshakes regardless of who you thought you were. Harry brought his hands up to sign again, and I quickly grabbed his hands in mine.

"No, Harold, I am not letting you argue your way out of this one," I started laughing and Harry merely rolled his eyes, trying to stop the fond smile from creeping too far up his face.

We were sitting on the couch, watching whatever show was on (I wasn't really paying attention if I'm honest) and enjoying each other's company. It was quite nice, the way we were just seated with each other, hardly saying a word, but enjoying it nontheless. I had my arms wrapped around him and I put my face into his hair.

"Harry," I said. He turned so we were face-to-face.

I didn't really know why I said his name and what I was expecting, but instead of coming up with a random sentence, I kissed him softly on the lips because I figured that would say everything that I didn't. He kissed me back, a smile playing on his lips. He turned to that he was fully in my lap, and we were kissing with a bit more intensity now. My heart swelled for this boy and I wanted him to know it. I wanted him to know everything there was to know.

"I need to tell you something," I breathed as we stopped kissing. He kissed the side of my neck, urging me to continue and I took pride in the fact that he was now kissing at my neck, because I knew he wasn't usually this affectionate.

"I," I paused, wanting to phrase this just right, "Harry, I love you."

He paused on a mark he was currently working at at the base of my neck. He looked up at me, eyes filled with all kinds of emotions that I didn't even know where to start.

"It's okay, you don't have to say it back or anything. I just wanted you to know..." I trailed off as Harry's expression bored into my eyes. He started kissing me more passionately, and I assumed he loved me back, but I definately was not expecting what came next.

"I love you, too," He mumbled against my lips.

No. I didn't just hear that. Harry talked. He _talked._ And this time I actually heard it, not just saw it. It was quiet - and I mean really quiet - but it was there. I cupped his face and brought it so it was inches away from mine.

"You spoke. I-I heard it. You spoke, Harry," I was so giddy with excitement at the moment that I heard his voice and maybe it was because he hasn't talked in so long, but holy shit his voice was deep. Far deeper than I imagined. His smile was ear to ear, even though he was blushing a deep shade of red. I brought his lips to mine again and we both smiled deeply into the kiss.  
I pulled back and saw that, despite the small smile still playing on his lips, he had tears brimming his eyes.

"Harry, what's wrong?" A tear fell from his eye and he looked down, "What's the matter, love?" I swiped my thumb on his cheek and his blush deepened.

He scooted back on my lap, and opened and closed his mouth as if he were about to say something. Frusrated, he went back to signing, _I wish I could talk to you more._

"No, love, no, c'mere," I drew him in by my arms, hugging tightly at his waist, while he wrapped his arms around my neck. I took a hand and soothingly rubbed up and down on his back.

"Harry, you do talk to me. We just talk in a different way. It doesn't matter to me what you can't do on the outside, because the outside isn't what I see. Sure, you're fit, I mean, everybody within a five mile radius of you knows that," an airy laugh escaped his nostrils and I took that as a cue to move on, "But, I-I like the way we talk. Even if it doesn't involve sound," He scooted back and asked me if I meant that. Of course I did. I meant every word of it.

Our lips collided yet again and I breathed in deeply with the strong love I had towards him in that moment. I didn't know if his life would ever be normal again, I didn't know if we would ever find out what happened to him, I didn't know what the fuck the furture had in store for us, but I knew that I loved Harry and I knew that Harry loved me.

And really, could I ask for anything more?


	10. Epilouge

[Louis' POV]

I got dressed and ready, my nerves in a bundle resting deep in my stomach. My palms were sweating as I wiped them on my jeans one more time.  
  
"Calm down, Louis, it's just Harry," I reminded myself. Although Harry and I had been living together for almost a year and a half now, I was still nervous to "pop the question."  
  
Harry had moved in with me the day after his 19th birthday. It was truly the best of times, and despite being in a relationship where one partner doesn't talk, it was much easier than one would've predicted. I had become so accustom to associating looks in Harry's eyes with what he was saying, that it was second nature for me to know what he was trying to communicate. Not to mention that if it wasn't something simple, he would always just sign it. He often forgot key words in sign language (although according to him it doesn't happen as much as it used to), so we practiced together sometimes, and I was suddenly extremely thankful for taking that class in sign language during my senior year of high school. Harry and I had great times together, and I found that mostly on days where we both have off from work, and we're just relaxing at home, are the days I get to hear his voice.  
  
Of course, I took some time into researching Selective Mutism before Harry and I moved in together in order to get a full grasp as to what I was in for. Not that it would matter - blind, deaf, or mute, I would always love Harry and not anything in the world could take that away from me. Not all days were walks in the park, however. Somedays Harry got overwhelmed by the memories he had, and memories he still had yet to recall. Those were days I had to calm him down and remind him that it wasn't his fault; he was too young, or he was drugged. Either way, he was not to blame.  
  
We never did figure out what happened That Night, although after much research, he had come to the conclusion that he was most likely drugged. Anything more than that he refused to admit. It had always haunted him to such a degree, he would wake me up in the middle of the night because of how bad he was shaking. I had to wake him up and remind him that it was just a nightmare, I was here, and nothing like that would ever happen to him again. I knew when I woke him up from his nightmares, that he remembered something. Most likely something vital; a big peice of information. He would never share it though and I never pressured him to, so I just held him tight and whispered sweet nothings in his ear until he fell asleep again.  
  
Overall, though, I'd say we had a pretty good life. That's why I was on my way to visit Harry at work and ask him to be mine in a bondage of marriage.  
  
At first, I had wanted to propose to him at a park, or somewhere more romantic, but I knew he didn't like much attention on him, so I decided to do it at the small café he worked at, considering it never had more than three people there at a time. As I drove down the street, time seemed to move far too fast, and before I knew it, I was inside, shielding myself from the cold UK weather, and smiling at a beaming Harry at the front counter.  
  
"Morning, love," I greeted him with a peck on the lips. He nodded at me and started my usual cup of tea as I messed with the velvet-y ring box in my front pocket. I took a deep breath, and as he gave me my cup, I "accidentally" shloshed some on the floor.  
  
"Oh, no would you look at that? I think you need to come over here so you can help me clean this up," he rolled his eyes as an amused smirk played on his lips and went in the back to get a rag. When he came back, some of my nerves had managed to calm down. He approached me and right before he got down to clean it up, I set my tea on the counter saying, "No, it's okay let me get it."  
  
I now had a confused Harry standing over me as I kneeled down to the ground, with no actual intention of cleaning up the mess.  
  
"Harry Edward Styles," I began, noticing a few people already with their gazes in my direction, "I really love you. I mean, really, I am madly in love with you and I could just sit here and go on for the entire day with each thing I love about you." He was blushing with his hands in his pockets. "For now, I'll keep it short though," A few chuckled eruppted in the room and I realized that everyone was watching us, yet Harry seemed completely unphased by it, keeping his attention on me, "I have loved spending almost two years of my life with you and for the past year and a half being able to wake up with you by my side. There's nothing more I would want in life to wake up beside you every morning for the rest of my life," He froze. His eyes flickered from the ground to me, and his eyes locked on mine. He was catching on, and I wasn't surprised, considering he was a fairly clever lad.  
  
"So, um, I just wanted to ask you," With shaking hands I took the ring box out of my front pocket and opened it, revealing a simple, golden band, "Will you- will you marry me?" He put his hands up to his face and his eyes began to shine. He pointed a finger at his chest and mouthed the word, _Me?_  
  
I got up from where I was kneeling and pulled him into a tight hug, "Of course you, you idiot," He chuckled at that and I pulled back so we were facing each other, "So whadaya say?" He nodded vigorousily and we envoloped each other in a tight hug, and if I wasn't so involved with Harry at the moment, I would've noticed the two people recording, and the rest of the crowd with their hands over their hearts or covering their mouths.  
  
"I love you," I reminded him. He just pulled back to clash our mouths together in a passionate kiss. We had kissed many times, but none amounted to the amount of feelings in this one. It was wonderful.  
  
Magical. Just like the new start for Harry and I. Nothing short of magical.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading my story! I make alot of one-shots, so check out my account, and feel free to request any prompts! :)


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